 From Hollywood, it's time now for... Johnny Dollar. Bert Major, Johnny. Master's Insurance Trust. Oh, hi, Bert. You know anything about spacemen? Never saw any, if that's what you mean. Neither have I. But I know somebody who thinks he's been contacted by them. Oh, sure. I have some whimsical friends too. Not funny, Johnny. The company is betting $2 million that this man is either a liar or pulling one of the biggest hoaxes in history. $2 million? That's right. Conrad Billings. Ever hear of him? Billings. Texas oil. One of the richest men in the country. Right. Presently of California, where he's holed up in an isolated mountain top lounge. Minus a $2 million collection of diamonds. He took up there with him. And you insured them? Yes. But not against ordinary theft. What does that mean? Those stones were insured against theft by persons or things unknown on this earth. What? That's right. Holy... You... You're serious, aren't you? You bet I'm serious. Okay, Bert. I'll see you at your office. In the exciting adventures of the man with the action-packed expense account. America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. And now, act one of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Expense accounts submitted by Special Investigator Johnny Dollar. To the Home Office, Master's Insurance and Trust Company Hartford, Connecticut. Following is an account of expenses incurred during my investigation of the diamond dilemma matter. Expense account item won $3.20 for a taxi to the office of Bert Major. I've known Bert a long time, and he's been in and out of too many deals, big and little, to get excited over nothing. But he was excited now. This whole thing is incredible, Johnny. Fantastic. It's utterly impossible for $2 million worth of diamonds to simply vanish into thin air. So it's impossible. But it's happened. The police out there in California state positively that no man on earth could possibly have gotten to those stones. Then Bertram, tell me all. All right. Two weeks ago, Conrad Billings called me from his lodge up in Northern California. Said he wanted to insure the diamonds immediately. Over the phone? Over the phone. You sure it was really he? I'm not that naive. I had the call traced. How come he called you? We've done some business with a wealthy friend of his in Dallas. Recommended. And he had the stones with him there at the lodge? Yes. And Johnny, it's one of the most isolated spots on earth. You're sure he had them there? He loves diamonds, Johnny, almost to the point of obsession. He plays with them like a kid plays with marbles. Lord knows he can afford to. So you insured $2 million worth of diamond marbles over the phone? I did. And you say you weren't naive. Look, a remote lodge, an eccentric old man, some expensive barbels, a rank amateur could get at him. You haven't listened to me, Johnny. You've missed the point entirely. I wouldn't care if he left the diamonds lying out on his front doorstep. I insured those diamonds solely against theft by persons or things unknown on this earth. That's the exact wording of the policy. And are they gone? Yes. So someone took them? Prove it. What? Someone and not something. Now, why would anybody in his right mind want to insure against theft by other than people? I asked myself that question. My answer was that a billionaire in active command of his business empire must be of sound mind. And if he wants to satisfy a whim and is willing to pay for it, why should my company refuse his money? You think maybe he has an obsession about flying saucers and the people or things who fly them? Who knows? Or what knows? Johnny, you've got to go out there and make some sense out of all this. Who are the contacts so far? The head of his San Francisco office, Norton Shields. The chief of police in Lakeview, about 30 miles from Billings Lodge and the insurer. Okay, I'll call you, Bert. But not from Mars. Expense a count out of $2,280 deluxe flight with trimmings Hartford to San Francisco. A piece of fog was rolling up Market Street and it was 2 a.m. when I finally got to the office of Billings Enterprises and met Norton Shields. He was wide awake, sharp, about 35. Yes, Mr. Dollar, I've been in charge of Billings' West Coast operation for 10 years with timeout for Korea. Pretty young for such a responsibility. Billings hired me because I know the oil business. I learned it young. You like him? You don't have to like a man just because you work for him. He shrewd and knows how to make money. But he has foibles. Yes, he has foibles, diamonds. Have you ever seen them? Sure. Where? Oh, here in the office. At the lodge where he is now at his home. You're certain he took them up to that lodge? Three weeks ago the night they were spread out right here on this desk. He put them one by one in a chamois bag, put the bag in his pocket. I walked into his car and he was driven straight to the lodge. All right. What about the flying saucers, the spacemen or whatever it is? No, that's a new one. I learned of it when Mr. Major called disclosed the terms of the insurance and the fact that the diamonds had been, uh, well, that they were gone. You haven't talked this over with Billings himself? No, no, I haven't. Don't you think you should? Why? If he wants me he'll call me. How do I get to this lodge? I have a company plane and pilot ready to fly you to Clear Lake in the morning. You'll be met there by a car and driver. Anything else you want, call me. Why all the cooperation when you're not even supposed to know what's going on? A good lieutenant knows when to follow orders before they're issued. You're registered at the Mark Hopkins. You better get some sleep. Yeah, I may need it. Act two of yours truly, Johnny Dollar, in a moment. And now, act two of yours truly, Johnny Dollar and the Diamond Dilemma Matter. The company plane turned out to be a plush two-engine amphibian waiting for me at a private dock near the Golden Gate Bridge. The pilot introduced himself and we headed to north of San Pablo Bay and then northwest past the valley of the moon. Then, a few minutes later, we glided in for a landing on Clear Lake, the largest body of water in the state of California. The arrow was met by a car and a driver, as promised. How far is it to Mr. Billings Lodge, driver? About 30 miles. What do you do when Mr. Billings isn't here? Wait for him. Do you, uh, live at the lodge? Nobody does. Just Mr. Billings. No caretakers, housekeepers, anything like that? Just Mr. Billings. Well, surely there must be someone to look after. Look, Mr. I'm hired to drive a car. I do it and that's all. The car twisted in turn through some lush country, then left the highway and climbed a narrow mountain road with signs every couple of hundred yards, marked private and big letters. After several miles of this, during which we passed through a couple of gates that had to be opened manually, we came to a high steel wire gate with equally high fencing stretching out in either direction. A small redwood blockhouse squatted inside. The driver made a U-turn, stopped in front of this gate, then reached around and opened the door. This is it, Mr. This is it? Yep. Okay, if you say so. But if this is a millionaire's idea- Hey, hey, wait a minute! Well, if this really is the place, I may as well get- Can't you read? You touch that gate and you will be electrocuted. What? Your name, Dala? That's right. Who are you and what's the- Speak up! Where were you at exactly two o'clock yesterday afternoon? Well, if it means anything to you, I was talking with a man named Bert Major in Hartford, Connecticut. Come in. The big gate swung open and I gingerly walked through and asked for instruction from the loudspeaker nestled in the wall of the redwood blockhouse. You drive, don't you? Yes. Then get in that car you see there and follow the road. The car referred to by the voice was parked against the blockhouse on the far side. I did as I was told. After a while, the road narrowed to a single track and continued on up the mountain. At one point, there was a solid granite overhang, a sheer drop of a thousand feet or more, and another gate that opened as I approached it and closed behind me. Finally, I rounded a turn where a fill had been made and a moment later it came out on top. A few hundred yards away across the terrace top of the mountain was a charming rusty glodge. I drove over to it. Mr. Billings? Come in, come in. About this man was strange enough. Seeing him was even more of a shock. About five foot two, flashing gray eyes, bullet ball. He was wearing a baggy old jacket that hung nearly to his knees. In this way, I want you to see my view of the lakes below. What was that? I said, I said beautiful. Yes, yes, it is. Now, Mr. Major has informed you of the insurance on my diamonds, which disappeared two nights ago. Yes, sir. He told me that... Speak up! He told me you insured two million dollars worth of diamonds against theft by persons or things unknown on this earth. Exactly. And I wish to collect from your company on that basis. Oh, I... Tell me, where did you keep them? Right here on this table in front of the window, right here. You mean to say you didn't lock up such valuable property? Mr. Dala, let me show you something. Look here on my control panel. You recall the series of gates you passed through after leaving the main road? Yeah, very well. Well, by means of my electronic devices, I followed your progress every inch of the way. Well, I'll be done. I watched your arrival at the main gate on this video screen. In Union, eh? That's putting it mildly. What did you say? I say that's putting it mildly. Yes. And I'm sure you noticed this mountaintop is completely encircled by a 12-foot electrified fence. Between it and the inner fence is a maze of photoelectric cells. This panel controls floodlights with which I can cover every inch of ground between the two fences. These viewers are geared to the floodlights. All of this equipment is automatically activated on contact. In short, Mr. Dala, I can detect and follow any person or thing which moves through or between these two fences. Anyone who knows electricity could cut your fences and come right on up the road. I did not say this mountaintop was impregnable. I said no one could reach it without my knowledge. Why did you take out such limited insurance on your diamonds, Mr. Billings? I've made my money by leaving nothing, absolutely nothing, to chance. Now that man has projected objects into outer space, it is reasonable to assume that other planets may be ahead of us in technical endeavors. Diamonds would be of tremendous value to an unknown civilization. Well, look, how do I know this is not just an elaborate scheme to collect two million dollars? A fair question, Mr. Dala. What would prevent you from hiding those diamonds somewhere on this mountain? I should consider that question in a front to my integrity, but under the circumstances I do not. I simply defy you to find them. Then what's your explanation of the disappearance? I have none. And unless you find one, I intend to collect from your company under the terms of the policy. Mr. Major mentioned the chief of police in Lakeview. Do you mind if I talk to him? And he print is not at all. I have a direct phone to his office and his home. Would you care to talk to him now? No thanks, but I would like to use your car. By all means, I'll open the gates for you on your way down. Just one point. There must be no publicity on this matter. Understood? Mr. Billings, if I can't prove that your diamonds were taken by a person, those space cats are going to get a lot of publicity. Act three of yours truly Johnny Dollar in a moment. And now act three of yours truly Johnny Dollar and the Diamond Dilemma Matter. While I drove down the mountain with gates electronically opening and closing behind me, I did some thinking. Billings had bought and paid for his privacy at tremendous cost. I couldn't see any loopholes in the setup. Yet the diamonds had disappeared. Forty-five minutes later, I pulled up in front of the police station in Lakeview. Obviously, I was expected by the chief of police, Andy Prentice. Well, Mr. Dollar, my name's Prentice. Might if I join you? No, no, hop in. Just proves down by the lake. I'm sure you want this to be a private conversation too. Good idea. Now, what's your opinion on the diamonds? Well, I don't know who took them, but I'll tell you one thing. I don't believe it was some thing or some buddy from outer space. Well, how would you get through all those electrified fences, photoelectric cells, floodlights, and closed circuit viewers? Yeah. Well, what's your opinion? I'm as practical and logical as an ex-fella. If a human being couldn't get to Mr. Billings without his knowledge, and he'd call me the moment somebody tried. Well, oh, sure. Spaceman. Well, what else? I noticed one thing, chief. He's a little hard of hearing. He doesn't wear a hearing aid. He doesn't need one. Just turns up the volume on all that electronic stuff he has around him. Well, suppose someone parachuted onto the top of that mountain. How would he get out? Man could dig under those fences. That would leave evidence, and I've been over every inch of the ground. I've even thought of the expert pole-volter idea. No sign. Nothing makes any sense. Yeah, see what you mean. How about a ride in Billings' private plane? I'd like to take a look at that mountain for the year. I don't know what good it'll do you, but I'll go along. Well, maybe there are spacemen, but I still don't believe it. And there's the lodge. Yeah. I asked the pilot to circle around the top as close as the air pockets will permit. Good. Chief, have the pilot drop down just below the top and steer a course between the two fences all the way around. Whatever you say. Oh, pilot. For the next few minutes, I studied the top of that mountain from all possible angles. The road leading up to it, the terrace is the lodge itself. Suddenly, an idea hit me. And a few minutes later, I left a somewhat puzzled chief of police at the landing dock on Clear Lake. An hour later, I was explaining who I was and what I wanted to do to a somewhat incredulous Captain of Police at San Francisco's International Airport. I finally convinced him I wasn't out of my mind and he reluctantly agreed to cooperate. Then, about dusk, I found myself exactly where I wanted to be. On top of Billings' mountain, calmly walking toward the lodge. I said good evening, sir. Mr. Dollar, why, I can't... I don't understand... See? No space suit. Why, I can't believe it. How did you do it? How did you get here? The same way as the man who stole your diamonds. But this is impossible. Impossible. My electric system gave me no warning. That's because you have it located in the wrong place. What? It's in the two fences and between them halfway down the mountain. Above them, there is one level spot, 50 yards across that isn't covered by your automatic whistles and bells. But it isn't done... It isn't... It's not necessary. Wrong. It's just big enough for a helicopter, which is waiting for me out there right now. A helicopter? You didn't see us because we came in and landed below your line of sight. You didn't hear us because you don't wear a hearing aid. I can't believe it. But it's... I... You must be right. And you'll have to agree that your diamonds were not stolen by persons or things unknown on this earth, the terms of the policy. Of course, of course. I disallow all claim, but I... Good, good. Now, it's none of my business, Mr. Billings, but was your San Francisco manager, Norton Shields, a pilot during the time he was in Korea? Yes. He flew rescue missions in a helicopter. Yeah. The company that ensured your diamonds against ordinary theft might be interested to learn that. Good night, Mr. Billings. Yes. Good night, Mr. Teller. You know, in some ways, I felt sorry for him. He'd spent millions of dollars to ensure his diamonds and his privacy. Came a real showdown and it turned out he had neither. Oh, he'll get his diamonds back, sure. Probably buy some more. But privacy, with or without money, is a pretty hard thing to come by, at least in this man's world. Expense account total, including incidentals and transportation back to Hartford, $284.30. Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Star will return in just a moment. Now, here's our star to tell you about next week's story. Next week, a moth, a tiny moth, solves a case involving our national security. Join us, won't you? Yours truly, Johnny Dollar. Truly, Johnny Dollar, starring Bob Bailey, originates in Hollywood and is produced and directed by Jack Johnstone. Today's story was written by Alan Bozzi. Heard in our cast were Edwin Jerome, Paul Dubois, Frank Girstel, Junius Matthews and Marvin Miller. Be sure to join us next week, same time and station, for another exciting story of yours truly, Johnny Dollar. This is Dan Cumberley speaking. This is the United States Armed Forces Radio and Television Service.